


A Heart, Riddled With Lead

by vityamins



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bonding, Bratva, Discovery, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, M/M, Mafia Katsuki Yuuri, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Marking, Mating, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Organized Crime, Russian Mafia, Scenting, Sexytimes, Smut, Torture, Violence, YOI Omegaverse Week, Yakuza, archive warning is mild, but not too extreme, just a touch of, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vityamins/pseuds/vityamins
Summary: The work is terrifying, thrilling. It's also dangerous, and neither Viktor not Yuuri are reminded of that more than when they lie wrapped in each other's arms.Two crime families. A forbidden love. It's so cliche that the pair of them hate it.Tragedy is meant for the theatre. The pair of them are willing to fight tooth and nail for their real life happy ending.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 89
Kudos: 200
Collections: YOI Omegaverse Week





	1. The Ticking Clock

**Author's Note:**

> Written for YOI omegaverse week day 6: Mafia/Yakuza, mating/bonding. It took a little longer than I thought.
> 
> This has grown from a single little fic to a multi-chaptered monster, but updates should be regular and soon because I've *trumpet fanfare* actually written them in advance this time. 
> 
> See you on the other side!

Wet black tarmac reflected the city’s lights like shattered glass. The smell of rain hung in the air, but it was quickly being overpowered by that of petrol; and possibly soon, gunfire. A thick layer of cloud covered the moon.

As the roar of adrenaline faded from his ears and the engines of the small army of black sedans that had swarmed the small dockside car park cut one by one, Viktor felt the weight of the silence. He let go of the warm comfort of his mate’s hand, solid and reassuring, to raise his arms slowly. He saw Yuuri do the same in his peripheral vision. Still, some two dozen guns remained raised at the pair from all angles. Yuuri glanced at the Russian beside him, unable to read his expression. Viktor looked only ahead, unwaveringly meeting the steely gaze of his superior. Neither backed down. But it was too late.

The game was already over.

  
  


\--- FORTY EIGHT HOURS EARLIER ---

  
  


The cabin door burst open, closing just as quickly as the pair maneuvered themselves inside and out of their jackets without breaking the fierce kiss they were locked in. Viktor was quite proud of himself for finding the place; it was a lot more out-of-the way than most of the hotels they’d stayed in; on the outskirts of the city, and had a lot less CCTV. Despite being billed as off the beaten track, each of the cosy cabins available boasted twenty-four hour room service and a fully equipped kitchen, not to mention the hot tub. He imagined that it would be a lovely place to spend a long weekend. They’d have to come back sometime when their situation was a little more… secure. The Russian was soon brought back to the present by his omega trailing kisses down the pale column of his throat, tugging open the buttons of his crisp white designer shirt. Viktor moved his hands to the other man’s ample ass, moaning appreciatively as he squeezed. Yuuri moaned in return as his alpha’s shirt was finally discarded on the floor, running his palm against the smooth planes of the other man’s chest, pausing before reaching for his own buttons.

“Bedroom?” he panted through kiss-swollen lips.

“Ah, yes…” It took Viktor a moment to gather his thoughts, much to Yuuri’s pride. He motioned to the wide oak door at the end of the kitchen. Yuuri tugged him to it, kicking off his own polished dress shoes and black socks as he went. Viktor pouted slightly at the latter, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Sweetheart, you can worship my feet when I’m _not_ desperate to be stuffed with your cock.”

Viktor blushed at being caught before hurrying after his smirking boyfriend.

The bed was ridiculously large and luxurious, though neither paused to take it in before Yuuri pushed Viktor onto it, ridding himself of his shirt before straddling his hips. The alpha made a small involuntary noise at the friction against his clothed dick.

“Patience, Vitya. I think you need to be taught some manners.” Yuuri purred.

_Oh yes,_ Viktor’s brain helpfully supplied. He was helpless against his beautiful, sexy omega, left in a daze of hopelessly aroused pheromones, and _loved_ it when the other man decided to take what he wanted from him. Yuuri never failed to turn him on, however when he wanted to be he was Eros personified.

“Da, Yuuri, da.”

“Mmm. That's what I thought.” He pulled Viktor’s belt from his trousers. He hadn’t even noticed it being undone. “Be a good boy and move to the headboard.” The omega’s voice was like silk, and Viktor bit back a moan at the implication of his words. His belt was still in the Japanese man’s hands.

“On your back please, Vitya. Arms up.”

He did as he was told. Yuuri followed, looping the belt about the sturdy posts of the headboard and around Viktor’s wrists. They flexed slightly, testing the bonds almost automatically. The belt was leather and of the highest quality, impossible to break, though he knew he needed only say the word to be released. The pair of them saw enough of the alternative outside of the bedroom; no need to bring such unpleasantness in.

Any thoughts of unpleasantness were stopped in their tracks as Yuuri quickly stripped himself of his remaining clothing and settled back onto Viktor’s hips. His cocklet was full and red; the scent of slick filled Viktor’s senses. He flexed against his restraints again involuntarily, desperate for a taste. Yuuri tutted.

“I thought you were behaving yourself, Vitya.”

“I _am_ , solnyshko, please, it aches.”

Yuuri looked down to where the Russian’s cock strained against the fabric trapping it, then slid down his legs with all the grace of a dancer. Viktor let out a light moan as he felt the other man’s hot breath even through the layers of clothing.

“Well. That won’t do at all.” Without warning, he undid the offending trousers with his mouth, teeth dragging the zip as Viktor watched, transfixed. He pulled the last of the clothing off completely with deft fingers, throwing it to the floor, though Viktor noticed the short breath he took as his hardened nipples grazed the expensive wool. The omega took the man’s stiff cock by the base, at the sensitive skin where the knot would form, and let a breathy sigh fan across the wet head. Amber eyes aflame, he lapped at the head, humming at the salty taste. Viktor tensed, unable to take his eyes off the other man as he took the head into his hot, wet mouth and tongued at the underside, cupping the alpha’s balls with his other hand.

“Ah, _yes_ …” Viktor longed to weave his fingers into that ebony hair and thrust into his omega’s inviting mouth. In a bid to behave, he consciously tried to still his hips. Yuuri moaned as he settled into a rhythm, dark eyes hooding as he bobbed up and down effortlessly. The smell of slick hung heavy in the air; Viktor swore he could feel the wetness drip onto his legs as the Japanese man sped up.

“Yuuri,” he panted, back arching slightly, “I won’t last if you - _ah -_ continue.” Yuuri took his mouth off his alpha’s straining cock with a wet sound, precome smearing his lips. He pushed himself up to where Viktor was reclined against the pillows and kissed him roughly, moaning as the man pushed his tongue over his own. Viktor tasted himself on his omega and let out a possessive growl, eager to run his hands over the man’s toned body. Yuuri had other ideas, reaching down to spread the lips of his dripping pussy and lower himself onto his alpha’s cock. The velvety feeling of the omega wrapped around him had Viktor moaning into Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri whimpered in response, feeling impossibly full. Taking a moment to adjust, he planted his sweat streaked palms on his alpha’s broad chest before lifting up until only the head remained inside him to slam down, riding him at an urgent pace. He rolled his hips like a man crazed, whining at the delicious feeling. _This_ was what they had been missing, had craved since the last time they had parted. And neither could wait. Viktor felt his inner alpha threatening to take over, wondering why he hadn’t pushed his omega into the mattress and fucked the breath out of him yet. The silver-haired man longed to stroke his perfect omega’s cocklet, glancing at where it bobbed, dripping and neglected. He wanted to fuck his Yuuri in earnest, bring him to unimaginable pleasure.

But he could be perfectly content with this. Content with the way Yuuri’s impeccable rhythm grew faster, and faster, and then disjointed as he reached his peak. Content with how pressure built up at the base of his spine, longing to be released.

“I’m close, solnyshko.”

“Ah- _ah,_ me too, Vitya.” The omega’s hand flew to his abandoned cocklet, frantically working over himself as his hips struggled to choose between thrusting into the tight pressure or back against the cock filling him so nicely. Viktor drove his hips upwards, unable to keep still.

“ _Yes, yes, yesyesyes-”_ Tears ran down Yuuri’s cheeks as he sobbed.

“Come for me. Come for your alpha.” Viktor bit. It was all Yuuri needed for his orgasm to wash over him. Viktor fell over the edge as the other man tightened rhythmically around him, the pair working their way through their respective peaks.

Once blood stopped rushing in their ears, Yuuri collapsed against Viktor’s chest, knot holding the Russian fast inside him. He was sweaty and exhausted and lying in a puddle of his own come, too sated to be disgusted. At least for the time being. He tugged at the belt, freeing his boyfriend’s wrists, then moved his heavy limbs to get as comfortable as he could. 

In a short while the knot would go down and they would want to clean up a little before their inevitable second round, but in that moment they were both content to revel in their satisfied mix of pheromones, enjoying the afterglow.

  
  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


Warm sunlight stroked Yuuri’s face, waking him from a pleasant, dreamless sleep. He wrinkled his nose and yawned ( _cute,_ thought Viktor), sitting up in time to appreciate his boyfriend coming out of the bathroom, towel slung low around his hips. Yuuri wasn’t surprised they’d forgotten to close the blinds; they’d been rather _heated_ the night before. There wasn’t time to worry about things like that when they could be ripping each other’s clothes off. Deciding to forgo clothes for the moment, Viktor crawled across the bed to his still groggy omega, smiling softly.

“Good morning, solnyshko.”

“Mmmh.” Words were still slightly beyond Yuuri, but they didn’t matter when he had the most gorgeous silver-haired alpha leaning in for a kiss. Yuuri winced as the taste of mint reminded him that he hadn’t had the chance to brush his own teeth yet. He moved to get up, but Viktor stubbornly wrapped his strong arms around the smaller man’s waist. 

“Another moment, darling. We both know what getting ready means. I want to have you all to myself for a little longer.” 

Yuuri couldn’t argue with that, snuggling towards the other man. He took a deep breath, the scent of pine, ice and something inherently _Viktor_ hitting the back of his throat. He missed it, craved it, much more than he’d ever care to admit. _Needy_ wasn’t exactly the most desirable trait for a top-level Yakuza member, after all. Here though, curled into the crook of Viktor’s neck, he didn’t have to be Yuuri Katsuki, nephew of the most feared Oyabun in recent history. He could just be Yuuri, or Solnyshko, or zvezda moya, or whichever term of endearment Viktor decided on. 

Viktor. He would certainly argue with the word _just_ , if he’d been able to hear Yuuri think it. He firmly believed that Yuuri had much more to offer than the Yakuza could ever use from him. 

“You’re thinking too much for this early in the morning, sweetheart. I can hear the cogs in your brain turning.” Viktor mumbled into his forehead, breathing a little too heavily to be doing anything other than taking in Yuuri’s own scent. “Care to share?”

“Just thinking about how much I’ll miss you when I have to go.” His words carried an underlying weight of sadness that they both felt heavily. They usually avoided the topic when they were together, instead choosing to enjoy the time they had. The ensuing short silence made Yuuri wish he hadn’t brought it up.

“You say it as if we won’t meet again. There are still plenty of hotels left for us to defile.” The humor attempted to hide an emotion that Yuuri wished he could read. He wished he could stop pressing the issue, but it had been eating at him for far too long. He was sure Viktor would meet him where he was.

“We can’t be sure. We both know the risks we take every day,” he fought the tears he could feel building behind his eyes, “any day could be the day either of us don’t-don’t come back. I couldn’t live with it. I couldn’t live not knowing what had happened to you; knowing that I could have helped.”

Viktor hugged the omega close to him; it said more in the moment than his words could.

“I… I had thought I was being terribly selfish,” he started, Drawing back to look Yuuri in the eye. His own held a fire that the colour blue shouldn’t have been able to express, “but I see now that I was only ignorant. Yuuri, my darling, I want to bond with you.”

Yuuri gasped almost inaudibly, full lips falling open ever so slightly. Viktor continued, scent filling with excitement. “I want to bond with you, sweetheart. I want for us to mate and marry and have a real _life_ together, not just stolen moments in hotel rooms. I want to steal you away from the world and be stolen away in turn.”

Yuuri should have been overwhelmed. He should have been hyperventilating and unable to process a coherent thought, with how fast his pulse was racing. Instead, he managed to find his voice. “I love you.” 

“As I love you, zvezda moya.” Viktor’s eyes were completely aflame now, grin radiant. “No matter where, or when or how, or even if we have to wait for Yakov to die, will you marry me?”

“Of course, Viktor. A thousand times, yes.”

They were both crying, tears silently streaming down their cheeks as they held each other close, entwining scents elated. It would be difficult, they both knew. Nearly impossible. But after being said, it felt that little bit closer. 

  
  


-o-

  
  


Viktor needn’t have taken a shower; the pair didn’t hesitate to celebrate with another round of _very_ gratifying sex, followed by another in the shower as they tried to clean up. Reception was always tipped generously to forget either of them were ever there, and they made sure to leave an extra few bills for housekeeping in lieu of an apology.

Eventually the time came for them both to leave. They did so separately, as a precaution. Yuuri left first, giving Viktor a parting kiss before his taxi took him back into the city. Viktor stayed to check out; a charming smile and healthy bribe ensured that any incriminating CCTV footage was deleted. 

It was unseasonably muggy for May, thought Viktor as he climbed into his sleek sports car.

Perhaps a storm was brewing.


	2. Liar, Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Updates will be weekly for this fic, so make sure to look out for them :)

The darkened basement where the Yakuza carried out their interrogations was decidedly not as nice as a five-star woodland cabin retreat.

Not that Cao Bin had ever been to such a place. The retreat, not the basement. He was unfortunately growing all too familiar with the basement.

Minako Okukawa, feared Oyabun of aforementioned Yakuza, would not hear a word against her torture basement. It was not, as many other torture basements are, dank or dingy in the slightest. It was state-of-the-art, and pretty luxurious as far as torture basements went.

Cao Bin grunted as the relentless fist of the Oyabun’s second-in-command and heir slammed into his face for the umpteenth time. Blood and teeth littered the floor, visible only under the harsh glare of a single overhead light. He felt his eyes swelling shut and prayed that a stray piece of cartilage would pierce his brain and put him out of his misery before the torture  _ really _ started.

“That’s enough for the moment, Mari.”

The break from the punches offered no relief. Now the man had nothing to focus on other than the unbearable burn of his bruised and bleeding body. Hot, salty tears silently forced their way down broken skin. Cao Bin could barely make out the two figures. The taller one made her way towards him slowly, heels clicking ominously.

“We know who you are, Mr. Bin, we know who you work for. We’re so goddamn thorough that we even know your fucking club penguin login details. All we want to know now is why you were at  _ Fever. _ ”

“You already know my orders.” Cao Bin spat through bruised lips. Blood trickled down his chin.

“ _ Yes, _ ” Minako said patiently, “but why  _ that club? _ There are countless in the city. You can’t expect me to believe that you simply stumbled across the exact time and place that my nephew would be available for kidnap.”

Cao Bin attempted a self-assured smile, giving up immediately as another wave of pain engulfed his face. “We do our research.”

“And yet sent a lackey like you to do the job?”

“I’m not a fucking lackey!” He raged, blood barely spraying a pitiful foot from him. “I’m a high-ranking member, and I will die with honour!”

Minako remained unflinching, moving only to smile. “So you  _ did _ gather intelligence. I wasn’t sure if you lot just had someone posted at every club all night. Nobody’s reached out to negotiate your release, so I assume you’re disposable. Though from the sheer  _ incompetence _ you’ve shown me, I’m not surprised.” she motioned to Mari, who had just finished wiping down her hands. “In fact, you only got one thing correct.” The Oyabun took a step back; her niece took her place and Cao Bin found what was left of his eyesight staring down the barrel of a well-kept handgun.

“You will die.”

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


“Are you sure we got everything from him?”

Minako and Mari were making their way to what Minako had dubbed ‘the tech room’, the security and communications department nestled at the heart of their main operations building. After all, what was being an organised crime family without being organised?

“All that we need. The only time Yuuri’s whereabouts was mentioned was in his phone call to me. Our friend confirmed that they didn’t stumble upon it by chance; so, unpleasant as it may be, it seems his group can monitor our phone calls.”

Mari frowned. “Then why-?”

“Why not go after something a bit bigger? It confirms that they don’t have much access. Yuuko’s team will find out the extent of the breach. We can only hope it doesn’t involve a mole.” replied Minako. As they neared the door that led to the correct department, the Oyabun paused. 

“One thing that has yet to be explained, though…” She looked at Mari thoughtfully. “Why didn’t it work?”

“Well, the club’s security is-” started Mari.

“No, I know our precautions. All the same, the plan was crude but it  _ should have worked. _ We would have easily gotten to Yuuri before they left the car park. But he never showed.”

Mari had cottoned on. Her face looked grim.

“Maybe he changed his mind. Have you asked him about it?”

Minako shook her head at the younger alpha, “No. He has no idea about any of it; for the moment I’d ask that we keep it that way. I’m going to text you a list of dates and locations,” she pulled out her mobile, clearly having planned it in advance, “I need you to go to each one and ask if Yuuri made an appearance. Check CCTV if there’s any doubt. I need to be sure.”

She gave her second-in-command another meaningful look before disappearing into the room. Mari had turned even before her phone buzzed with Minako’s message.

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


Viktor had walked the route to Yakov’s office thousands of times. One of his earliest memories was being walked through the wide hallways of the lavish headquarters to begin his training as the next pakhan. There would be no room for error, he was warned. No room for disobedience or insubordination.

In hindsight, it was funny that nearly every other time he was summoned there was to be reprimanded for one transgression or another. Yakov liked to do his bollocking in his office. It helped reassure him that he was still in charge, even as Viktor gave him an airheaded smile and acted as if a major misdeed was nothing more than a stolen cookie.

He readied himself to don such a smile, though this time he was a little disconcerted. Despite what he pretended to Yakov, he was always fully aware of his own actions. The silver-haired alpha had proven himself a worthy future Pakhan time and time again; largely due to his excellent ability to plan. His profession was one long game. Viktor ensured he could never be outplayed.

In short, the man was damned clever - if sometimes a little forgetful - and yet for the first time he had absolutely no idea why Yakov had called him in.  _ Best to just smile and feign ignorance, _ he thought. After all, his Yuuri was the one good at thinking on his feet.

Yakov’s office was as ornate as the rest of the Bratva’s old headquarters. The majority of operations had moved to new locations in the city, though the older buildings tucked away on the outskirts still held a certain charm. Perhaps a similar metaphor could be applied to the Bratva’s leadership; although the old building wasn’t red-faced and glaring at Viktor.

“Yakov! To what do I owe the pleasure?” He said cheerfully, subtly assessing the situation. Yakov was holding a stack of paper, which wasn’t ideal. Whatever Viktor had done, he had some proof of it.

“Sit down, Vitya.” Yakov was gruff, teeth gritted. He threw the papers onto his desk, close to the black leather chair Viktor had just settled in. The younger man picked them up.

“Care to explain?”

It was an extensive account of Viktor’s personal outgoings from the past few months. It was normal, mundane… but a few transactions were highlighted in green.

They were all for hotel rooms in the area, dated all the way up until a couple of weeks prior. If it were more up to date, there would no doubt be even more highlighted purchases.

“The hotel rooms?” asked Viktor, eyebrows raised. He quickly ran through everything Yuuri had taught him about lying on the spot. Best to try to find out what Yakov already suspected before digging himself into an even bigger hole.

Yakov was unimpressed. “Yes, you stupid boy.  _ Seventeen _ hotel rooms; all in the past three months! All in the area, where you have  _ multiple _ perfectly serviceable apartments!”

“Yakov, what I choose to do with my own-”

“BULLSHIT, Viktor.” Yakov’s face and tone were grim, “You’ve been keeping things from me. There is no honest reason for you to be sneaking around in  _ hotel rooms. _ ”

_ Sneaking around. _ The phrase rattled around in the younger alpha’s skull. It gave away a little too much of Yakov’s thinking. Because  _ yes,  _ he could have been meeting anyone, for any reason. But his superior clearly hadn’t fully jumped to the idea that Viktor was a traitor. Only - quite rightly - that he was doing something improper with someone that the old-fashioned Yakov wouldn’t approve of. Combined with the fact that Yakov still somewhat viewed him as the little boy that he’d taken in all those years ago, the perfect cover story manifested.

Viktor smiled again, smaller this time, in an effort to look slightly uncomfortable.

“Prostitutes.”

Now _ that _ stopped the old man in his tracks. “I  _ beg your pardon? _ ”

That was it; Viktor knew he had him hook, line and sinker. “Prostitutes. I pick them up, pay them in cash, charge the room to my card. I didn’t want to risk taking them home.” It was simple, plausible, and had just enough detail. Yakov’s face remained red, though likely for a different reason.

“ _ Seventeen…? _ ” The old man blustered, taken aback. Viktor shrugged. The man was an excellent Pakhan; he’d brought the Bratva he inherited from a relatively insignificant crime family to one of the wealthiest, prolific and feared in the world. His protege could run circles around him, however. Viktor loved the man, but he was far too easy for him to read. Lilia usually held up much better; Viktor had no idea why Yakov didn’t just use her to control him. The younger alpha had to physically stop himself from relaxing in his chair and giving himself away.

“Was there anything else?” He asked as innocently as he could.

“Right, ah… Well - no. Just… be careful, Vitya.” Yakov was visibly cringing. With that, Viktor pushed himself from his chair and left the office as quickly as he could without appearing suspicious, for both their sakes. Once the thick oak door had closed behind him and he was sure he was well out of earshot, Viktor started whistling happily, silently congratulating himself on a lie well told.

Back in the office, Yakov had not moved from where he stood behind his desk. After the initial shock and humiliation had worn off, they left room for a growing sense of unease to creep over him. Something wasn’t right. Yakov  _ knew  _ Viktor. He knew him well - much better than either of them would care to admit. Hell, he’d practically raised the boy. And while the Bratva had numerous dealings and assets in the business of prostitution, he had never shown any interest outside of the professional. Viktor may have been a whirlwind of change, always surprising those around him with a new phase, but he was nothing if not a romantic.

Yakov slumped back into his plush chair, chin balanced thoughtfully on his hand. He half smiled as he remembered Viktor crying  _ at least _ five times over  _ Pretty Woman _ . Yes, Yakov could have understood Viktor seeing the same prostitute seventeen times. But that many different people, sometimes within days of each other he noted as he picked up the expenses sheet again, seemed highly out of character. Something in him - and he assured himself it wasn’t the prude - recoiled at the idea. 

Before he could second guess himself, he found himself reaching for the internal phone. It was picked up on the second ring.

“Mila. I need you to do some asking around. Every prostitute in the area. Bribe them with as much as you need - I want to be as thorough as possible. And be discreet. This is not to leave this phone call, you understand?” Yakov ordered. The red haired alpha replied in compliance.

“I need to know if any of them have been with Viktor Nikiforov.”

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


Minako ended her call and closed her mobile with a satisfying snap, spinning her chair around to face the floor-to-ceiling window behind her desk. She didn’t usually work in her office, preferring a more active, hands-on approach to her work, but it offered the best view of the orange sun setting over the city that she could hope for. She did some of her best thinking watching the sun set. 

The Japanese alpha leaned forward in her seat, elbows on her knees and phone tapping against her lips thoughtfully. Mari’s report had been sooner than expected, succinct and entirely unwelcome. The younger alpha had tried to hide her worry. The Oyabun heard it in her voice all the same.

Yuuri had not visited any of his usual haunts in a few months, save for the birthday of Phichit, his closest friend. Yuuri had lied to her.

Minako Okukawa had faced more than enough trouble to last a hundred lifetimes. Her position had been achieved and maintained thanks to her cool head. Her actions could be sudden, but they were always calculated. Her panic wasn’t a rapid flame that clawed at her throat and set her heart racing. It was controlled and muted, sitting at the base of her stomach. She felt sick with it.

Minako snapped open her small, outdated brick of a phone once again. She’d never gotten on well with the flashy smartphones that lined the pockets of the youth. Provided she could call and text, she was happy - the ‘snap’ was a nice bonus as well. The main perk, however, was that her phone couldn’t be traced. 

Yuuri had always been presented with the latest gadget upon release.

“Morooka? I have a new top priority for you. Simple police database work. I’ll send you the number I need tracking. First thing, if you can.”

An inside man on the force was damned handy. One that answered solely to Minako was an absolute godsend. Quick, easy, discreet information. They couldn’t risk this leaking.

The sun finally set over the skyline in a myriad of colour, plunging the city into the dark of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh... People are on to them.
> 
> I'm also on Tumblr @vityamins ans Twitter @vityamins_ao3 even though I have no idea how to make links to them (I tried and failed I'm sorry).
> 
> My other series (looking at you, A flower most sweet) are far from forgotten and will be resuming soon(ish), but at the moment I've been a bit swamped making hundreds of reusable cloth masks (VERY MUCH NOT ALL FOR ME). I honestly kind of like them, they can be cute and they hide my face which I see as a plus.
> 
> As always, thank you so much to everyone who comments and gives kudos, you make my day!  
> See you in the next chapter :)


	3. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigation is done and intelligence gathered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Shit might be continually hitting the fan at the moment, but weekly uploads are still a thing!
> 
> Hope you enjoy, see you at the end :)

At the stately headquarters of the Bratva, Yakov was nearly climbing the walls. As an experienced leader he knew that gathering information took time, especially if one was to be thorough. The more he stewed over his wayward heir, however, the tighter he ground his teeth. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night beforehand.

In an effort to stop wearing a hole in his carpet, even if his molars were a lost cause, he threw himself back into his chair. Unanswered emails taunted him from the laptop tucked into the teak drawer beneath his strumming fingers. They would have to wait. Despite the fact that it was already noon, the elderly Pakhan had an urgent meeting scheduled first. Mila worked quickly, and while she couldn’t have gotten to every hooker in the area in the time she’d had, she had no doubt gotten to enough of them for her report to either ease his nerves or confirm his fears. 

The knock at the door startled him more than he would have liked to admit. 

“Come in,” he called gruffly.

Mila was through the door and settled in a chair before Yakov could say anything, with all the grace of a dancer. She was wasted on intelligence work, he mused. Excellent at it, but wasted on it all the same. 

“Milotchka.”

“I haven’t reached all of them yet, sir. Though I doubt there’s much need for it. I reached well over half, starting with the…  _ higher budget _ options and working my way down.”

“Excellent. You have an answer for me, then?”

She smirked and picked at a nail. “Of course! But I could have saved you the hassle and told you myself without going anywhere. This is  _ Viktor _ we’re talking about. The most colossal sao on the planet. He hasn’t…  _ entertained _ anyone I spoke to.” The red head looked on the verge of giggling. “Come on, Sir. We both know that if Viktor had been seeing a hooker for any length of time he would have either run off with them or introduced them to you by now. Whoever gave you the idea?”

Yakov was not laughing. He had a face like a thundercloud. 

“Viktor did.”

Mila sobered up immediately; her face lighting with shock before settling into a grim line. 

“He’s… he’s teased you before.”

The old alpher shook his head. “He wasn’t teasing. He was lying.”

Mila looked as though she didn’t know what to say. Her vivid green eyes bored a hole into Yakov’s antique desk. She looked up only when a small stack of highlighted paper was thrust in the direction.

“His personal accounts.” Yakov explained, “They’re up to date. Go to the last hotel listed. It’s a cabin retreat on the outskirts.” 

She took the paper wordlessly, swallowing around the lump in her throat the pair of them felt, and made for the door. Before it closed , she stopped it with her foot.

“Yakov, sir… Every one of us, myself included, would die for Viktor. We trust him with our lives.”

“I am aware, Mila. I have to be sure that we should.”

The heavy door banged shut with an air of finality. 

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


“Thank you, Morooka.”

Minako barely waited for a reply before she ended the call, scrambling to open the email attachment she’d been sent. The twinge of guilt at spying on her beloved nephew was quickly extinguished as she skimmed through the document. It was very rare that Minako cursed her gut for being right. She shot a text to Mari before letting her mobile clatter to the desk, rubbing her temples.

_ Fuck, _ she could do with a drink. It was barely one. Before she could reach for a bottle of scotch she had reserved for emergencies, she buzzed her secretary on the intercom.

“Haruhi? Please bring me some black tea.”

_ “Of course, Ma’am.” _

It wouldn’t be strong enough. Promising herself a stiff drink once this was all over, Minako settled in to go over the document again, in detail.

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


It didn’t take Mari long to get to Minako’s office, though to her surprise she was stopped by Minako’s secretary, who directed her to a boardroom on a lower floor. Confused, she made her way there as quickly as she could without appearing too worried.

In truth, she was terrified. Terrified because her baby brother, who she had loved with all her heart ever since she had been handed the pink, screaming bundle of black hair and chubby cheeks, was acting strangely. Her brain had been running a mile a minute with theories, each more terrible than the last. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell their parents anything yet. The alpha sincerely hoped that whatever the Oyabun was about to tell her would ease her fears.

Inside the boardroom was dark, floor-to-ceiling blinds drawn and lights untouched. The only source of light came from the overhead projector, which lit up the far wall with a grey and green image - a map, Mari realised. Most of the chairs and tables had been pushed to the centre of the room; Minako was sat on the table closest to the projection, legs swinging rhythmically and hair lit with a corner of green. Without turning around, she spoke.

“Come here; see what you think of this.” her tone of voice was not reassuring; it was cool and businesslike. At least it was better than panicked. Mari stepped forward until she was level with her Aunt, squinting at the map.

“It’s the city.” she observed.

“Yes. And these,” Minako pressed a button on the small remote she was holding, “are the clubs Yuuri said he’d gone to, numbered in chronological order.” The numbers one to twenty appeared on the map, most of them clustered in the city centre. “Now. I know that you’ll have something to say about it, but I’m asking you to leave it until later. I tracked Yuuri’s phone signal.”

Mari took a quick breath, nostrils flaring slightly. As instructed, however, she remained silent.

“The cell phone towers that were connected for the majority of the night are numbered in accordance to the clubs and dates. I’ve included the radius that each one covers.”

_ Fuck, _ thought Mari. Minako had really done her research. Her own questioning looked pitiful in comparison. The projection lit up with a further twenty numbers, this time in another colour, each with its own little surrounding circle.

“Now,” Minako said firmly, turning around to face the other alpha, “what do you notice?”

Mari frowned, sensing a test. Minako had clearly gleaned more from the image than she had at a first glance. She thought about the dramatic flair that had been added to the meeting; the dark room, change of location, drip fed information… the  _ fucking powerpoint. _ Whatever it was that her superior wanted her to see, Minako clearly felt that she had deduced something clever. Mari took a closer look at the map, starting with what was instantly obvious.

“None of the corresponding numbers share a circle, so he hasn’t been anywhere near where he was supposed to be.” She could see Minako nodding in her peripheral vision. “And they’re scattered across the city. He hasn’t been to the same place twice.”

“At least not in the past few months,” Minako corrected, cutting in, “We don’t have data from before February.”

Mari tried to make out the location of each of the masts. It was useless, the map was too small. She wondered why, since most of the numbers were centred within the city itself.

Ah, that was why. Whereas most of the locations covered the large grey patch of the bustling city, one of them stood out from the rest in that it was nestled in the midst of the green that surrounded the area to the south. A break in the pattern.

“This one…” she stepped forward, reaching out to it, before realising her mistake and stepping back as her shadow covered the picture. Number twenty. It would be impossible to tell where Yuuri was in the radius of a city telephone mast. There was very little, however, on the south-eastern outskirts.It was largely woodland, hence the green. “What’s in this area?”

Minako smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Just one thing. A woodland retreat. It has several cabins scattered close by in the area. Luxury, but limited. There’s nothing else but the cabins and the reception building.”

“So he was there for a room.”

“Exactly.”

“And the others?” asked Mari. Minako pressed the button on the remote again.

“There’s a hotel within range of each of the towers. In a city this size, that might not be surprising. If you weren’t looking for it, it would be impossible to spot. It doesn’t look like a coincidence, though. Each of them is fairly middle-to-high end. Nothing low-budget or trashy.”

Mari stared at the twenty new dots that graced the projection. Minako was right; each of them fit neatly into a numbered circle. For a moment, a flicker of hope graced her features.

“Then maybe he’s just hooking up with people!” her excitement fought the cringe she felt at the statement. He was still her baby brother, after all. Minako looked unconvinced.

“It’s a possibility. I think we can be safe in assuming that he’s meeting someone. This,” she waved a hand at the map, “isn’t once or twice. This is regular. And I don’t think either of us believe that he’s the sort for casual sex. Not  _ this _ much casual sex. Which leaves us with two likely options.”

Mari held her breath before realising that the Oyabun wanted her to continue.

“Uh… he’s meeting the same person for - the same partner.”

Minako pursed her lips, “For quite some time, too, but he hasn’t introduced or mentioned them to anyone. Which means we won’t like them.”

“Or it’s not for sex.” Mari said glumly.

“Which means it’s for business. Business that nobody else is aware of. Which I  _ really _ won’t like.”

“Yuuri would  _ never- _ ”

“I’d like to think so, too. But nobody was ever knowingly double-crossed. We have to accept it as a possibility.”

Knowing someone was correct and agreeing with them were two very different things. Mari would still follow her superior no matter what.

“I need you to go here,” Minako hopped off the table and tapped the green space to the left of the circled number twenty with a long index finger, “and ask after Yuuri. I want CCTV, booking information, the works. It was only a couple of days ago. I’ll text you the information. It’s an hour or two out, so preferably take one of your faster cars. Come straight back to my office afterwards… and Mari?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“This is still a private matter. It may turn out to be nothing, so please be discreet.”

“Of course.”

With that, the younger alpha left for the underground garage. Minako stared at the projected map again for a long moment, before turning it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic Viktor and Yuuri are literally the 'look out! Oh shit they have airpods in, they can't hear us!' meme, which is very outdated at this point but still applicable. If you're wondering where our favourite mafia couple was this chapter, so am I! I wrote most of this fic and then realised when I was splitting it into chapters that the MAIN CHARACTERS really didn't appear in a whole chapter. I promise that this is very much going to change, very soon.
> 
> Upon realising, I wrote a chunk of Yuuri POV, but in the end it got a little too chunky and would have made this chapter weirdly larger than all the others, so that's something to look forward to. I'm kidding, the rest of the fic will wholly be returning to the leading couple. Brace yourselves, because they're coming back and coming back strong.
> 
> I genuinely cannot fucking believe I missed that main characters out of a whole ass chapter. Berate me in the comments, or on tumblr @vityamins or my very sparse twitter @vityamins_ao3
> 
> Thank you all so, so much for all the lovely comments and kudos, you all make my day <3


	4. A string, pulled taut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to get real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!  
> Bet you thought I'd run out of chapters and dipped for a while. Nope. I just forgot to upload. 
> 
> In my defense, days are currently meaningless and time is just one big lump. Not in my defense, I had it written in my calender and still managed to forget.
> 
> See you on the other side!

Just as the Oyabun had instructed, Mari took one of her best cars. It was a sleek Alfa Romeo, usually her favourite, though she was too on edge to appreciate the smooth handling and purring engine. She wasn’t familiar with the area, yet reached the retreat in good time - taking advantage of the lack of speed cameras.

As she pulled up and exited the car, she felt the weight of the silence. It was eerily quiet to someone used to the bustle of the city centre. The scent of greenery hung in the air, without much of a breeze to blow it away. Though it was hardly warm, the air felt heavy and still, as if it might rain any second; ominous grey clouds hung overheard disguised by the thick layers of leaves.

Mari adjusted her jacket, unconsciously checking the holster tucked under her arm within easy reach. She wouldn’t use it, she’d just developed the habit out of caution. A bit like checking her mirrors every so often while driving, it was good practice. She slammed her door shut in the almost vacant lot and made her way to the reception building.

Blasted by a gust of warm, dry air as the pristine automatic doors parted, Mari praised the ingenuity and attention to detail of high-class hotels. Inside was an equally immaculate lobby, all glass and natural wood. Yuuri could probably have named the type, she mused, or perhaps his equally fashion forward friend, Phichit. Mari could not, because while they had been studying interior design, she had quite literally been studying the blade.

Despite the rather sparse car park, there was a queue for the front desk. In front of Mari stood an old couple, both dressed smartly in the shade of beige that only rich right-wing old people did. She hoped they wouldn’t say anything offensive; she was already on edge and the soft-voiced receptionist was already clearly struggling with the customer in front of them.

“Young, silver-haired man-”

Mari froze. Apparently the person at the front was looking for someone as well. She strained to pick up more of the conversation.

“ _ Very  _ sorry, but-” the poor receptionist looked as though she were pleading.

“-on shift, weren’t you-” the woman was persistent, but sounded like she was consciously controlling her voice. She showed all the marks of becoming increasingly impatient. “Tall, angular-”

The receptionist had her hands raised slightly in an almost defensive position as she shook her head and repeated herself

“CCTV?”

Mari watched as the receptionist shook her head again, firmly this time. Damn. That was what she’d been hoping to get her hands on as well. The alpha moved to get a better look at the woman. She was of medium height and athletically built; her scent gave her away as another alpha. Her slightly unruly short red hair fell to the middle of her neck, revealing an undercut beneath as she ran one hand through it in frustration. All of a sudden. Mari placed the slight lilt with which she spoke.

Russian.

The Japanese alpha still couldn’t see the other woman’s face. She didn’t need to. As the future Oyabun, Mari made it her business to know their rivals. It had to be Babicheva, one of the Russian Pakhan’s closest subordinates. Which meant that the man she was asking after… He matched the description of Yakov Feltsman’s second-in-command, his heir, Viktor Nikiforov. 

“Two days ago-”

_ Fuck. _ It really didn’t look good for Yuuri. Minako’s voice rattled around her head.

_ There are no coincidences, Mari. Only patterns, and the fools who refuse to see them. _

She had to get out of there before she was seen. The last thing they needed was the Bratva on their case as well. The receptionist had left to get her manager, though it wouldn’t do much good. Mari bet the staff had been paid off; Yuuri didn’t do things by halves. It was only a matter of time before the Russian turned around.

Unthinkingly, Mari took a small step back towards the doors, triggering the pressure plate. They opened automatically. The wind must’ve picked up, because a small gust of cold air whisked into the reception.

Paper fluttered on the desk. The elderly woman pulled her jacket tighter about herself, muttering.

The red-haired alpha, no longer distracted by the receptionist, turned around.

By the time the automatic doors had closed, Mari was already at her car. She cursed herself repeatedly for being so goddamn clumsy. She’d have to berate herself later; there was no telling if Babicheva had recognised her or not. Her dyed hair and piercings were fairly distinct, not to mention the vivid tattoo peeking out at the nape of her neck.  _ Fuck _ . Her only saving grace was that she was wearing a long sleeved jacket. Had her arms been bare, the alpha would have had to have been blind not to recognise her. She sped out of the parking lot, kicking up dirt as she did, and dialled her aunt.

_ “Mari! That was fast.” _

“Yeah, for all the wrong reasons. You’re not going to like this.”

She could almost hear the Oyabun frowning.  _ “Do you have the CCTV?” _

“No. I didn’t get the chance to ask. Someone else beat me to it. One of the Pakhan’s right hands was at the desk - Babicheva. Didn’t look like she was having any luck, though.”

_ “So they were paid off.” _

“Looks that way.”

_ “And the Russians are involved.” _ Shit. Minako was already planning.

“Listen, they were looking for someone too. Same timeframe. If that person met with Yuuri, then the Bratva didn’t have anything to do with it; they were acting alone. It’s nothing to do with business.” There was a nerve wracking pause as Minako processed her words. Mari clenched the steering wheel.

_ “Who, Mari?” _

_ Fuck. Fuckshitfuckfuckfuck! _

“Babicheva was giving the receptionist a description, I only caught part of it-”

_ “Who is it, Mari?” _

“It sounded like it might be... Viktor Nikiforov.”

The line went dead as the Oyabun ended the call. Mari pressed her foot down as far as it would go, grinding her teeth. It would take her well over an hour to get back. She hoped it would be enough.

Hell, she could  _ really _ do with a cigarette.

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  
  


Yuuri was not having a particularly eventful couple of days, he thought. He’d spent some time in the gym, done a bit of weapons training, shopped online for lingerie that would put Viktor’s jaw on the floor, and masturbated more than was probably normal. 

It was his upcoming heat, he reasoned, solidly ignoring the fact that it was at least another week away.

They used to be fun, he mused, no longer focused on the book he was reading. He used to pick whichever heat partner took his fancy and have a week of mindblowing sex. Now, he only wanted one partner; the one partner he couldn’t have. Just like his last heat, it would be agony, body yearning for the alpha it saw as his.

It really wasn’t fair.

Deciding the book was a lost cause, Yuuri flopped back onto his duvet, rubbing lightly against the insanely high-thread count sheets with a sigh. His window was open still; he could hear a bird singing in a nearby tree, leaves rustling in the light spring breeze. It was supposed to rain sooner or later, he recalled, though the sky was still dry, if slightly overcast. It was about time for the outdoor security to switch shifts on this side of the house; Yuuri waited for the anticipated chatter and clatter of the guards.

He waited a little longer before frowning. Perhaps he’d been mistaken about the time? A quick glance at the clock on his wall confirmed he had been right. 4pm. Security always rotated like clockwork; Minako left no room for slovenly work. The omega’s brows drew together as he sat up again, carefully.

Something was  _ not right. _ He tried to quash the anxious flare that lit up in his stomach and think. He had always been overly anxious, possibly paranoid. In his family’s line of business, however, it paid to be cautious. He slowly rose and made his way over to his dresser, as nonchalantly as he could. On top of the glossy wood he had a collection of trinkets. Most were shiny, expensive, and harmless. Some were just shiny and expensive.

On his twelfth birthday it had been decided that he was old enough to learn how to shoot. He was damned good at it; better than some of the Yakuza’s best. It wasn’t altogether surprising, since he excelled in every form of defense, yet it earned him his favourite gun. Gifted to him by Minako when he turned eighteen, it was perfectly balanced, more ornate than it probably has a right to be, and fit in Yuuri’s hand as if it had been molded to it. The reflection of afternoon sunlight winked at him from the dresser, reflected from where the gun lay, but he ignored it in favour of a small box.

This had also been a present. This time, from Viktor. What looked like a nail file set actually hid something a little more dangerous, though just as subtle. He slipped one of the small tools into a hidden pocket behind his waistband. If searched, it would be nearly indistinguishable from the zipper in his jeans.

Feeling somewhat reassured, Yuuri returned to his book on his bed. The pages were open, his eyes fixed to the page. He didn’t turn them, though. He was too busy listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit short and sweet, but at least I didn't completely gloss over the main characters (again)!
> 
> Hope you're all doing well, and thank you for reading!  
> Comments and kudos make my day, and I'm hanging around on Tumblr @vityamins and Twitter @vityamins_ao3 even though the state of my twitter is a little dire.
> 
> See you next chapter :)


	5. Lock and key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri really is his aunt's nephew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo all! Sorry about the upload schedule; it kinda fell to shit. I've been unbelievably busy lately but trying to get into the rhythm of writing at night lol.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

The day was really starting to wear on Mila Babicheva. She would lay down her life for the Pakhan, but he seemed to have forgotten that she wasn’t quite superhuman. After spending the previous day and night seeking out every hooker in the city, and the rest of her time finding a tiny five-star retreat in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, she was not a happy camper. The unhelpful receptionist in front of her was really just the icing on the cake. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there is absolutely no way that company policy would allow me to give out any such data. If you’d like, I can fetch my manager to see if she can help you.”

“Please.”

Once the woman had gone, Mila had to restrain herself from collapsing onto her arms on the smooth glass desk. She wasn’t yet exhausted, just the kind of tired that made her want nothing more than a hot drink and a warm bed. Well, maybe after she ripped Viktor a new arsehole for causing all this trouble. Stifling a yawn, she prepared to size up how large of a bribe the manager was going to require. She wasn’t about to go full Karen on the staff; it wasn’t their fault the establishment was caught in the midst of the Bratva’s business. Besides, people were usually much more receptive to money. Especially ones that had clearly been bribed at least once before.

Suddenly the Russian heard the slide of the automatic door, bringing with it a chilly breeze. The fresh air carried the scent of the two snobby betas behind her in the queue, as well as a new scent. 

Alpha.

Mila whipped her head around, hair fluttering. The unknown alpha was already leaving suspiciously quickly. She couldn’t be sure of their primary gender, but guessed it was a woman based on height, since their dark jacket and trousers were fairly androdgynous. Their only real identifier was the short two-tone hair that framed the slightly tanned skin of their unbitten nape. At the base, peeking from beneath the jacket, was a splash of colour. The other alpha was gone before she could make it out. At that moment, the receptionist returned with the manager and Mila had to hide her concern. From outside came the muffled screech of a car taking off at speed.

The redhead didn’t particularly listen as the hotel manager repeated exactly what the receptionist had told her. It was evident that she wasn’t going to get anywhere without changing tactics, and she didn’t really want to draw too much attention to herself. Besides, the more she considered it, the more Mila was convinced of what - or rather  _ who _ \- she’d just seen. 

Neck tattoos weren’t especially  _ rare, _ not in this day and age, definitely not in Mila’s profession. It hadn’t looked like a small tattoo though, more like part of something much bigger. Part of something that could quite easily be very significant. The Bratva was well aware of the Yakuza presence in the city; as far as Mila could recall they’d even done business with them on occasion. For the most part, though, the two organisations viewed each other as rivals; and while there hadn’t been an out-and-out turf war, there had been enough small skirmishes recently to raise tensions slightly. Deciding to abandon her search at the resort, Mila thanked the staff and headed back to her car. Her eyes were instinctively drawn to the fresh tyre marks in the sandy gravel, evidence of the speedy getaway she’d heard. On their own, none of the things she’d seen were particularly damning. Together, though… It was enough to make her trust her gut and pursue it.

The redhead hopped into her black sedan just as the first small splatter of rain began to fall, sprinkling the windscreen. It was an inside joke to call the Bratva’s small fleet of fast, efficient work cars ‘company cars’; they looked like something straight out of a bad crime drama. Contrary to popular belief, the majority of cars used daily by the organisation were crappy and entirely mundane. After all, it was best not to scream ‘look at me! I’m a member of the mafia!’ whilst doing something you probably shouldn’t. The sleeker models were used for show, or for transporting the higher ranks. Their designated purpose meant that they were fairly nice, with black leather seats and touch-screen dash. Better yet was the handsfree phone system - after all, it was best not to commit a crime whilst committing crime; Mila didn’t feel like getting pulled over.

The engine revved as she dialled the number of someone who might be able to help her confirm her suspicions. Hell, he’d slept with half the city. Even if women weren’t his forte, there was always a chance with Chris.

_ “Bonjour, darling! To what do I owe the pleasure?”  _ Christophe sounded a damn sight better than Mila felt.

“Hi, was wondering if you could get me some info on someone.”

_ “Well, that depends on who it is. After careful research, I can say that most of the accounting department is exceptionally well-hung. I can’t speak for Moira, but I was chatting with her girlfriend, and-” _

“Not Bratva.” she cut him off.

_ “Ah. Where are you? It sounds like you’re driving.” _

“Probably because I am. I’m about an hour and a half away, if I beat rush hour.”

_ “Must be urgent then.” _ His chipper mood sounded like it had waned slightly.

“Yep. I saw someone - an alpha - while gathering intel for Yakov. About five seven, five eight… short dark brown hair with dyed blonde ends. Yakuza-looking tattoo showing at the base of her neck.”

_ “Mila, darling, that isn’t much to go off.” _

The Russian ground her teeth. “I know. I only saw them from behind for a second. Do you think you can work your magic?”

Chris chuckled.  _ “Mon amie, from behind is my speciality. Though I usually like to work with more than a second.” _

Mila laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “You truly are a disgusting man.”

_ “Thank you very much, Mila. I’ll have a look and send you some photos if we have them; see if you recognise them.” _

“Thanks.”

The call ended, and Mila slammed her foot on the accelerator, glad she hadn’t taken a doss car.

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


Mari was too late. She didn’t know it, and wouldn’t know until she arrived at the house and immediately rushed to Minako’s office. Exactly seventeen minutes and forty-one seconds earlier, Yuuri had been quietly taken to a set of underground holding rooms on the outer edge of the city. They really were holding rooms, not torture chambers or cells. The Oyabun liked to keep the three separate, as to avoid confusion. The omega felt a small twinge of appreciation that he was in the nicest of the options.

As far as arrests went, Yuuri’s has been fairly uneventful. He’d known that it was likely; it would have been poor manners to cause a fuss. Instead, he looked Minako in the eye as she and her men burst into his room, neither of them giving anything away in their expressions. The pair had been proud, polite, and completely silent during the entire exchange. No bags-over-heads or struggle; the omega knew exactly where he was going. There was no need to be uncivil.

The room was very nicely decorated in a modern fashion, bright feature wall complementing the sleek minimalist furniture. To most it might have looked like a high-end hotel room. Yuuri however, saw only function. It had been one of his earliest lessons, after all. Painted walls - _ you can hide things behind paper,  _ his aunt had said. Only cupboards;  _ draws take too long to search properly…  _ Everything was specially designed to be impossible as a hiding space for even the tiniest thing, and nothing at all could be used as a weapon. Everything was bolted down, and the walls were thick as a vault’s. It meant that he didn’t hear the footsteps in the hall, though he didn’t startle when the heavy metal door was unlocked. He did, however, slip the tool he’d hidden from his waistband into his palm. 

“Yuuri Katsuki?” Asked an unfamiliar voice. Several men came into the room, all evidently alpha Yakuza employees. Yuuri didn’t recognise any of them, and he made a point to be aware of all the immediate members of their crime family. He was immediately handcuffed with his wrists in front of him, though not especially tightly. They’d obviously been told that Yuuri was dangerous, but the lack of fear in the man who’d spoken’s voice suggested they didn’t believe it. New recruits, then. Although it made sense to approach him with people he didn’t know, it only really made the omega’s job easier.

“We’re here to take you to be questioned.” The tallest man smirked as he said it, clearly drunk on new power. Yuuri fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of the four men that had come into the room, all had guns neatly holstered on their chests, as per standard for lackeys. The omega bet they hadn’t heard of the 21-foot rule. Besides, it was difficult enough to quickly unholster a gun from the chest if you weren’t used to it.

In a second, Yuuri had the tool open and situated in his hand. Two little rings opened up from the small blade, neatly looping around his middle and ring fingers. The blade stuck out from between them, almost imperceptible unless you were looking for it. In another second, he swept his cuffed hands to his left side and then up and out to the throat of the man that had cuffed him. The alpha reached for the blood that was beginning to pour from his throat as he staggered back, leaving room for the omega to lunge towards the next man. The second was on the floor and dripping blood before three and four even had time to react. One was heavy-set; the other the tall one that had spoken. Still cuffed, Yuuri feinted towards the shorter alpha before raising both arms, silver blade glinting in the clinical light of the room. The lackey, to his credit, dodged the blow, managing to push back at the omega’s bound wrists with surprising power as the tall man scrambled to free his gun. Yuuri was unfazed, sweeping one toned leg out in a swift kick to the man's knees and pushing him to the floor, his own body bending down as he did so.

It wasn’t a moment too soon. He felt the sharp wind of a bullet whizz past his head before burying itself in the pristine wall behind him with a deafening bang. Hand still against the heavyset man’s chest, he pulled the gun from his holster, throwing it towards the still open door away from the final lackey. The man was no longer cocky; his hands shook around his handgun. 

He was holding it wrong, thought Yuuri as he disarmed and flipped the alpha. The man’s head hit the floor with a sickening crunch. Wasting no time, Yuuri grabbed the handgun from where he had thrown it as he left, locking the door behind him. He tutted internally at the lack of guards at the door. It was just poor practice, really. He was doing Minako a favour by weeding out the useless ones. The steel handcuffs clattered to the floor before he’d gotten to the end of the corridor. He hadn’t even had to dislocate his thumbs.

Once this was all over, he thought to himself, he would take recruitment training into his own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Yuuri's an absolute badass no matter what AU he's in.
> 
> I also like to think that uploads will be weekly, but here we are (sorry). I've been really busy for a few weeks now, but I hope you're all doing ok and taking care of yourselves even though some things are going to shit. Hang in there, we'll all make it to the other side somehow.
> 
> Also this is kind of left field but if anyone has any recipes that use up onions and carrots and rice please leave a comment because I've made a questionable purchasing mistake. I do not care how weird the dish sounds I will literally try anything at this point lmaoooo
> 
> As always, I'm on Tumblr @vityamins and on Twitter @vityamins_ao3 to chat or be asked about uploads or be told about how to use up the sheer number of miscellaneous ingredients I seem to have accumulated, and kudos and comments absolutely make my day - I love reading them, it puts such a smile on my face :)
> 
> See ya'll next chapter for some heckin DRAMA!


	6. The Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A car journey before a car journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!  
> Really sorry I've been kinda absent lately. I was doing so well with this fic in the beginning. Rest assured that this is FAR from forgotten about and FAR from being left unfinished, It's just taking a while.  
> Chapter count has gone up (and might do again) because sometimes that just how it be.  
> See you on the other side!

Christophe was too on edge to appreciate the fresh air, nor the scent of petrichor. Parked by the side of a road flanked by woodland and hedgerow, the scenery was a little better than that of his usual desk, tucked behind a computer.

Or it  _ would _ have been, but there was an especially cute newbie that had been seated  _ right opposite- _

Regardless, he was a little too tense to enjoy nature in all its glory. He was leant against his shiny sedan, holding a cigarette. Not  _ smoking _ the cigarette, since his last lay had called the habit unattractive and he couldn’t stand being associated with the word. Not like it got to him or anything.

Really, it hadn’t.

But he looked suspicious enough as it was just lurking on a quiet roadside. Better to try and at least look normal. He crossed one ankle over the other and looked longingly at the lit cigarette. 

Suddenly the sound of a quickly approaching car interrupted the birdsong and rustle of leaves. He prepared himself to look inconspicuous, pulling the cigarette closer to his mouth. Barely a second later, a silver BMW raced past. As it did, he glanced towards the driver.

Bingo.

The Swiss alpha raised the arm holding the cigarette by way of a signal; the car swerved to a neat stop around 30 metres away. The driver hopped out and turned to saunter back towards him.

“Christophe,” he called, “what an unexpected surprise!”

“Yuuri! I trust you are well?” Christophe smirked, dropping the cigarette and putting it out with a designer loafer.

“As can be expected at present. What brings you all the way out here? Isn’t your new assistant… I mean, the  _ Bratva,  _ keeping you busy?”

“Witty as always, mon amie.” Yuuri reached him and the two pulled each other into a hug. “My orders come straight from Viktor - outside of the bedroom - and he sent me to rescue his beau in distress.”

Yuuri’s look said more than any words could have.

“I know, I know. But what am I to do? I get skinned by Vitya if I don’t come for you, skinned by yourself if I do… I thought this an appropriate middle ground.” he gestured vaguely to their surroundings. “After all, you’re so good at saving yourself; it would be a shame for me to get in the way.”

Yuuri hummed in agreement, but was frowning. “How do the Bratva know where Minako’s holding cells are? 

Chris grinned. “Sweetheart, the Yakuza have captured so many of our men over the years that we gained a fairly good idea. These things should really be moved around.”

“What, like a random dingy warehouse? The Oyabun prefers to be more thorough.”

“Ah, but the Bratva has a reputation to uphold, non? Dark and dingy warehouses are our speciality. Oh - here, let me.” he opened the passenger side door with a smile while Yuuri looked at him questioningly. “So we can truthfully tell Viktor that I helped you.”

Yuuri climbed in with a laugh. Soon Christophe had turned the car around towards the city. As they passed the BMW the omega had arrived in, he nodded towards it.

“Hotwired?”

“Nope.” Replied Yuuri, popping his lips around the ‘p’. “I didn’t have to. One of the mouthier morons on guard left his keys right in the break room.”

“How did you know it was his car?”

Yuuri sighed. “It always is. They spend their paychecks on a flash slightly-more-expensive car and think they’re all that. I've never seen an asshole driver and not noticed them driving a BMW.”

Chris laughed heartily. “Never change, Yuuri. Did you know that I happen to own a very nice BMW?”

“My point exactly.”

  
  


-o-

  
  
  


The drive into the city felt shorter than it should have. Soon the roads were busy with evening traffic. The light sheen of rainwater shone a multitude of colours from where it lay on the pavement, a mirror of the city lights above.

Yuuri was nervous. He never let it show; had trained himself to stay stock-still instead of the usually given to those of the disposition. The sound of Chris’ voice surprised him, though the man had last spoken only a minute or two ago.

“I’ve been feeding Yakov red herrings,” he explained, taking one hand off the wheel to gesture unnecessarily, “he should be investigating some hideout on the other side of the city about now. Hopefully it’ll give you two enough time to scoot.”

Yuuri gave the other man an unimpressed look at the term. “Scoot?”

Chris grinned sheepishly, “Though you’d prefer it to ‘bailed’ or ‘ran away’, or ‘leave your poor darling friend Christophe all alone with Georgi’.”

The omega scoffed, “It’s hardly  _ running away- _ ”

“It absolutely is running away,” the blond cut him off, “and it’s absolutely the right thing to do. Don’t let your nobility get in the way of your common sense. I’d expect that from Viktor - you’re supposed to be the sensible one. If you want to get things sorted out, or negotiate with organised crime, it’s better to do it from across the table than when they’ve got your balls in a vice.”

“Chris!” The younger man pulled a face, half disgusted and half amused.

“Fine, it’s easier to end a war while each army’s firmly in their own trench. I’m anxious, hon, and I'm vulgar when I’m anxious.”

“Only when you’re anxious?” The pair grinned at each other. “God, I’m going to miss you, Chris.”

“Well, here’s hoping you won’t have to.”

As the city centre drew closer, the traffic grew thicker. Soon they were stationary in a seemingly endless lane of cars.

“Right,” said Christphe suddenly, tone much less playful than before, “do you see the multi-storey in front on the left?”

Yuuri peered over the dash and spotted the grey concrete entrance to a car park about a hundred metres away. “Yep.”

“The exit dumps you on Fore Street. Viktor’s in zone one in one of the posh cars, says he’s got a driver with him.”

The Japanese man threw him a look. “A little formal for an escape attempt, isn’t it?”

“The idea is that you put up the divide and stay hidden in the back, I believe. Viktor thinks Yakov’s too sure of himself to suspect one of his own cars, let alone one of his own drivers. For all the jokes I make, your boyfriend is damned  _ vicious _ at planning.”

The congested traffic slowly inched them ever closer to the car park entrance. Yuuri put his hand on the door handle and took a deep breath.

“See you, Chris.”

The other man smiled back at him. “Give my love to Viktor. The next time I lay eyes on either of you, you better be suntanned and planning a destination wedding.”

“Only if Viktor’s best man can make it!”

The door slammed shut, leaving the car heavy with the weight of silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet, mostly to reassure everyone that this is still being worked on. I've been busy as fuck for a really long time now (broke out in stress hives, which I didn't know were a thing) and have been overexerting myself trying to get through everything on my plate, let alone enough to find time to write. I'm hoping that I'll be less busy for a bit, though, enough to work on this fic, because It's one of my favourite ones I've done.  
> As for other WIPs I have, a lot of the notes I made for them are at a Secondary Location that I've been unable to access because Corona, but hopefully by the time I get to them I'll have plenty of time to write.
> 
> Thank you so, so , so much to everyone who leaves kudos and comments, you make my absolute day. You'll be glad to know that I tried last chapter's suggestions and got through all ingredients (though I've since bought another shedload of onions so I guess I never learn). My email decided to stop telling me about AO3 action for a bit so I assumed nothing was happening, but a few days ago I finished a load of exams only to find a multitude of lovely kudos and comments, so perhaps it was meant to be :)
> 
> I hope you're all doing well and taking care of yourselves, and that the world becomes a lot less shit soon.
> 
> See ya next chapter!


	7. A Grand Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chase is on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect this to take 3 months, and am sorry.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this fic this far, and enjoy the last instalment!

Yuuri saw Viktor before he could even start to look for him. He was clad in one of his usual smart designer suits, hair looking as though he had just stepped off a runway. The man was practically bouncing, rolling on the balls of his feet anxiously as he stood next to the car Chris had described. He was going to make his way over to him quietly, as to avoid drawing attention; it seemed the alpha had other ideas.

“Yuuri!”

Viktor bounded over to him as if he were an excited puppy, rather than the feared heir to the Bratva. The omega couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he was enveloped in a warm hug that contrasted so sharply with the chill of the surrounding concrete. Draped in the scent of pine and roses, close enough to hear his alpha’s heartbeat, he was home. Yuuri took a deep breath as a weight lifted from his shoulders; he hadn’t realised how tense he’d been.

Conscious that they were very much out in the open, the pair climbed into the smooth leather backseat of the waiting car, their hands still clasped together. For the first time in what felt like a very long time, Yuuri felt safe. And it had very little to do with the inch-thick bulletproof windows.

“The docks.” Viktor said to the driver, firmly. The other man, also an alpha, only nodded and slid smoothly out of the car park. “Yuuri, this is Georgi. He’s a loyal friend of mine and is helping us get to our boat.”

“Our boat?”

“Yes,” Viktor settled back in his seat, slightly more at ease as his plan set into motion, “I called in several favours. Travel by sea isn’t subject to the same checks as by air, and besides, it tends to leave less of a papertrail.”

It frustrated Yuuri to not know the details of their escape, a fact Viktor should have known well. The alpha squeezed the hand still linked in his own, as if to sooth the other man’s rising unease. Yuuri met his eyes in a quick, sharp look of understanding. If Viktor wasn’t disclosing everything to him now, he had a very good reason for it.

“Thank you, Georgi, for your help. I imagine it puts you in a difficult situation.” 

George didn’t take his eyes off the road, though Yuuri could see his smile in the rearview mirror. “Be that as it may, I’m honoured to aid in the pursuit of true love! Is it not the cause that unites us all?”

The omega fought back a giggle, refusing to look at Viktor, who he could feel was shaking silently with laughter. It was good to put a name to the face, but he hadn’t been prepared for Georgi to live up to  _ every _ story Viktor had told him about the man. Glancing at the driver again, he could even make out the faint shimmer of blue-grey eyeshadow.

A few minutes passed in silence, Viktor and Yuuri nestled against each other. The pair loved the smell of their overlapping scents and couldn’t wait to scent each other properly, however Yuuri wasn’t as soothed by it as he ought. Despite being close to his alpha and on the verge of their escape, he was growing more anxious by the second. Something was wrong.

“Vitya, what do you make of the black car two cars behind us?” The omega kept his tone even in an attempt not to betray his nerves.

Both alphas made use of the rearview mirror. George only frowned in confusion as a grim look settled over Viktor’s face. “Please tell me I’m being paranoid.”

“You’re not, love. Those are Bratva plates.”

“ _ Shit, _ ” murmured Georgi, “I can make a few lefts, see if they’re following us.”

“No.” Viktor said sharply, “We don’t want to attract attention. If they knew where we were, Yakov would have stopped us already.” As he spoke, the car in question made a right turn. All three watched it intently.

“There’s no way to rejoin this road without turning around, that way.” Yuuri remarked. “So either it’s a coincidence, or…”

“Or they’re searching the roads for us.” finished Viktor. Their hands tightened against each other.

“How would they know to search the roads? If Minako knows I’ve gone, which she  _ must _ by now, the Bratva wouldn’t be her first port of call! That should have been a  _ Yakuza  _ car behind us, not Bratva.” the omega’s voice was growing slightly breathless, betraying his panic. The evening had grown dark quickly, a pattern of shadows and streetlight flitted against the sharp angles of the Russian’s face. Against the windshield, the first few patters of rain began to splash.

“Blyat.” The word was breathy, barely audible.

Viktor’s face turned to thunder. “Gosha. You have something to tell me.” It wasn’t a question. The silver-haired alpha’s voice was grim, carrying all the weight of his authority.

“I’m so sorry, Viktor. So, so sorry. I had thought... I  _ trusted  _ Anya to-”

“ _ Shit. _ She’ll have run to Yakov the first chance she got.” The alpha ran his free hand through his silver hair, rubbing his face in exasperation. Georgi looked as though on the verge of tears.

“We have to keep going.” Yuuri’s chest was heaving as he considered the alternative. “We have to try!”

“Viktor, this is all my fault. I’ll follow whatever you two decide.”

The pause that followed felt like an age to Yuuri. He rubbed small circles into his boyfriend’s hand, the gesture more a way to calm himself than the other. He felt trapped; the relatively spacious backseat of their luxury car was suddenly far too small. He felt the urge to grab Viktor’s hand and run, his chest lurching with panic at even the thought of separating from the man he loved.

Yuuri nearly started as Viktor’s eyes suddenly snapped open. His face was still set in a sober expression, but his bright blue eyes shone with an idea. The omega’s heavy heart leapt.

“Georgi. You will follow my every instruction to the letter.” The driver gave a quick, determined nod. “Yakov will no doubt have guessed that we intend to travel by boat. The closer we get to the docks, the higher the chance that we will be seen. Regardless, we keep going unless either Yuuri or I say otherwise. Try not to draw attention. If they spot us…” the corner of his mouth twitched up, “Then we give them something to chase. The divider stays up until we either get there or are caught.”

“Understood.”

With that, the divider was raised, darkening that backseat further and plunging the pair into privacy.

“Lyubov moya,” Viktor wasted no time in grasping the other of his omega’s hands and pressing them to his mouth in a kiss, “I wish with all my heart that I had the time to say all I want to you. I wish that I could do better by you.”

Yuuri pulled their intertwined hands from Viktor’s face to his own, pulling the other man’s slender fingers to his cheeks. They seemed to be perpetually cold. “You’ve done everything for me, my Vitya. Our circumstances are… What they are. You’ll be able to tell me all you like once we get away from here.”

Viktor pulled the smaller man into his arms until he was nestled against his chest. Yuuri could feel the man’s racing heartbeat, alongside the deep breath he took as he pressed a kiss to his dark hair.

“Yakov will not let us be if he catches us.” his lips still brushed against the omega’s head.

“We’ll be alright.”

“Your scent betrays you.”

It was true. The small space was layered in their combined scent, spiked with nerves.

“Yakov is as a father to me. But he is getting old. He sees this as me threatening his power, and will act accordingly.”

“Then he’s a fool.”

Viktor laughed. “Perhaps so. Nothing clings quite like an old man to his youth. Even if it is far enough behind him that he has forgotten what it is to be in love.”

The omega tilted his face upward to kiss the Russian, who responded in kind. It was gentle, and said far more than words ever could. It was funny, the Japanese man thought, that only two days beforehand they had kissed and grasped and loved as if the world were ending, the promise of a night in their own slice of nowhere spread out in front of them. Now, with no idea of how long they had left together, their kisses and caresses were tender and unhurried.

“Zvezda Moya,” Viktor murmured, breaking the quiet, “what I am about to ask you, know that I mean it with my whole heart.”

“Vitya?” Yuuri questioned softly, jeans squeaking against the plush leather as he nervously readjusted his legs.

“I love you, my Yuuri. With my entire being. I- I was going to ask you once we escaped here, once we were safe…” The pair of them took a steadying breath in tandem. “Zolotse, Katsuki Yuuri, would you do me the honour of becoming my mate?”

All of Yuuri’s breath left him in a gasp. He felt the prickle of tears gathering in his eyes, blurring Viktor’s face as he looked up at his love.

“Of course, my Vitya. Always and forever.”

They shared another kiss, which quickly became heated as Yuuri parted his lips under his alpha’s attention. Viktor placed his hands on his beloved’s shoulders; the touch was grounding.

“Yakov will go to any lengths to get what he wants, but he isn’t unreasonable.”

“Minako as well. Separating us as a pair is one thing; separating mates is another entirely. Kept apart, we’d be useless to them.” Yuuri replied.

All of a sudden the car swerved to the left, throwing the pair towards the right-hand door in a roll across the backseat.

Georgi’s muffled shout came from the front of the car. “We’ve definitely been spotted!” 

Yuuri panted from where he lay sprawled atop the alpha, one palm pressed to the leather beside his head and the other against Viktor’s chest. “Do you think it’ll work?”

The alpha’s tone carried a playful air, “Well, they could always kill us.” 

The couple rushed into another kiss, teeth clacking together as the car swerved again. The city was a blur through the tinted windows as they righted themselves, Yuuri tilting his head back decadently as Viktor’s wicked mouth worked its way over his jawline and down the column of his neck. Viktor’s hands grabbed handfuls of the omega’s plump ass through the sinfully tight jeans he wore, almost growling at the prospect of getting them off. Yuuri’s own hands were far from idle, reaching to tug the alpha’s tie from his neck and pop the buttons of his crisp white shirt. His fingers moved to the other man’s belt, deftly ridding him of it and tossing the offending article to the side with a promising clink. The omega hurriedly ground down against the other man’s lap where the hot bulge of his cock was growing. He felt the inside of his thighs wet embarrassingly quickly as Viktor ran out of collar bone to mouth at, desperately clawing the man’s tee off to claim more slick skin and leave no space between them. The tinted windows had already begun to fog, but from Viktor’s lap the omega had a perfect view of the distant line of black sedans tailing their speeding vehicle. Strangely, a thrill flew up his spine rather than the nervous energy he had expected; he moaned at the premise of being claimed so thoroughly in the back of a car, during a  _ chase _ of all things. It was going to have to be fast and dirty and oh so _ good. _

The alpha had begun to tongue at a swollen nipple, alternating between rolling the bud between his teeth and giving it harsh sucks; every tug pulled a line of heat towards Yuuri’s core. The dark haired man pushed at the opening in Viktor’s shirt, yanking the fine material past his shoulders and giving the omega perfect access to the expanse of flawless pale skin beneath. The moment that Viktor lifted his head from the attention he gave his beloved’s chest, he was shoved back into the seat, tipping back against the headrest as the car flew over a bump. Yuuri punctuated the motion with a particularly vicious roll of his hips.

“You  _ ruin _ me, malysh.” Viktor moaned. It spurred a breathless gasp of Yuuri’s own as he somehow maneuvered his jeans off and resettled on the alpha’s lap, slick staining the man’s expensive wool suit.

Neither of them could have cared less. Viktor pulled his cock from his trousers, already hot and leaking. The omega gasped as he rolled his own cock against it, raising himself up to let the head rub against his clit and dripping folds. Conscious that they had little time to savour the experience, and desperate to feel the man’s cock fuck deep insode him, Yuuri lined himself up and dropped onto his alpha’s length, wrenching a full-bodied moan from them both. The omega immediately began a punishing pace, strong thighs pushed to their limits as he fucked himself on the hard length. Viktor thrusted up to meet him with every drop of his hips, filling the car with the wet smack of their lovemaking.

Viktor began to thumb at his clit, teasing the omega’s frenulum with the pad of his index finger, and Yuuri felt his orgasm begin to build. He panted against the alpha’s mouth, abandoning a sloppy kiss in favour of simply sharing each other’s air.

Abruptly, there was an almighty smash against the rear windshield, ripping the pair’s attention to the source. A bullet lay lodged in the glass, a spiderweb of cracked glass surrounding the point of impact.

“ _ Shit _ .” Yuuri panted, not even bothering to slow down his ministrations. Through the remainder of the uncracked glass he could see another group of sleek, dark cars in pursuit. They weren’t Bratva. “Minako’s found us. The chase must be drawing attention.”

Viktor almost growled, silver hair sticking to the slope of his forehead in a sheen of sweat, “Then it’s only a matter of time before-”

He cut off as the unmistakable sound of a helicopter came from above. The couple locked eyes before falling into a frantic, open-mouthed kiss. The car swerved; they struggled to keep their balance as adrenaline rushed through them.

Yuuri had never felt so alive, nor closer to death.

They sped up their thrusts, Yuuri twisting to mouth at the crease between neck and shoulder where Viktor’s bonding gland was pumping a delicious cloud of pheremones into the air. He moaned as he felt the alpha mirror his actions, sucking at the inflamed skin as if his life depended on it.

Which, he supposed, it did.

Viktor broke away from his omega’s neck for a moment to murmur against his ear. “I’m close, malysh, my Yuuri… Together?” 

It was all Yuuri could do to nod desperately, latching onto heated skin as the pleasure within him built. With one final thrust, the dam broke, sending a wave of euphoria through the omega as he bit down into the scent gland beneath his teeth. The pleasure doubled as Viktor did the same, the warm pump of come deep within him as he felt the alpha twitch. His mind fell into total bliss as a feedback loop of desire flooded his system.

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms until their heartbeats slowed to normal.

Well, normal for the middle of a deadly car chase.

  
  
  


-o-

  
  
  


Georgi, to his credit, was a much better driver than he was secret-keeper. The car slid neatly into the nearly vacant dockside car park, almost completely intact. The bumper had been lost on a particularly tight corner, and the assortment of bullet holes were neither here nor there.

“Warning shots.” Yuuri had explained as he dragged his discarded clothes back on, “If they’d meant it, they’d have aimed for the tires.”

They might have made it to their destination, but they were far too late. The sun had fully set, leaving the water beyond the dock an inky black. The scene was reflected in the ebony sky, the wet tarmac, even the shine of the vehicles quickly filling the lot. A thick layer of cloud covered the moon.

Viktor and Yuuri stepped out onto the chill night air, In time to see the respective leaders of both the Bratva and the Yakuza do the same from opposing corners.

As the roar of adrenaline faded from his ears and the engines of the small army of black sedans that had swarmed them cut one by one, Viktor felt the deafening weight of the silence. He let go of the warm comfort of his mate’s hand, solid and reassuring, to raise his arms slowly. He saw Yuuri do the same in his peripheral vision. Still, some two dozen guns remained raised at the pair from all angles. Yuuri glanced at the Russian beside him, unable to read his expression. Viktor looked only ahead, unwaveringly meeting the steely gaze of his superior. Neither backed down. But it was too late.

The game was already over.

They had already won.

  
  
  


-o-

  
  


Yakov looked as though he were about to have an aneurysm. If the veins on his extensive forehead had protruded any more, they might have been mistaken for additional limbs.

Viktor had kept his calm, blank expression, even as the man made his way over to the couple.

They had left their necks uncovered, fresh bonding marks still angry and red. Unmistakeable. Irreversible. 

Despite his face, Yakov’s voice came out clearly, if strained. Yuur had been expecting a furious squawk. “I see you have made your own decisions, Viktor.”

Minako had almost joined them, Mari hot on her heels.

“As always, Yakov.” Viktor’s tone was almost cheerful. He kept his unwavering stare.

The old man’s response came through gritted teeth, “You do not understand the consequences of your actions.”

“I understand the consequences had I not.”

Mari looked as though she desperately wanted to say something. She dutifully waited for Minako, however.

“Yuuri. It hurts me deeply that you force my hand.” Her voice was grim. The omega turned to look at his Aunt.

“It was the two of you who forced ours. There are other ways forward.” He surprised himself at how soft and even the sentence came out.

“As you have  _ made sure _ of.” Yakov sneered.

The conversation might have gone further, might have resolved or ended in gunfire, had the racket of helicopter blades not caught up to them, sirens blaring in the not-so-far distance. A silent agreement was made between the five. Minako took charge.

“We will continue this elsewhere. Pakhan Feltsman, you are free to join us in the car. I vow that we bear you no ill will.”

Yakov must have been truly at the end of his tether, since he agreed immediately. With that small act of assent, the future looked decidedly less bleak.

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand in his own as they took the first step towards forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe that this was supposed to be a short oneshot? I only started this with the intention of it being a bit of good ole car chase smut!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has followed this fic, given kudos, commented, and caught up with me on Twitter (@vityamins_ao3) or Tumblr (@vityamins) - especially those who got bombarded with Hades spam.
> 
> All kudos, comments and follows are very much appreciated!
> 
> Hope y'all are doing well, see you next time :)

**Author's Note:**

> So. What did you think of that?
> 
> I realised I have a few WIPs on the go now. Thing is that I've been so damn motivated to write recently, largely because of you lovely lot. Every so often I get an email notification of a comment or kudos and it really makes my day :)
> 
> I fully embrace comments of all varieties (including constructive criticism!) and so as well as tumblr (@vityamins) I'm now always up for interaction @vityamins_ao3 so you can come bully me if I forget to update in a timely manner.
> 
> (I tried to make that a hyperlink. I failed. Sorry.)
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the kudos and comments, and see you next chapter!


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